


Now It's My Turn

by jugandbettsdetectiveagency



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: 1x12 Fic, Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 15:31:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10856862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jugandbettsdetectiveagency/pseuds/jugandbettsdetectiveagency
Summary: Betty is the one to take Jughead out of the cafeteria after he apologises to Cheryl.





	Now It's My Turn

“Oh no.” Betty followed Archie’s apprehensive gaze, turning to look over her shoulder at the dread in his voice. Her eyes widened minutely as she took in Jughead’s form traipsing across the cafeteria. His shoulders were hunched and dejected as he curled in on himself, dark shadows beneath his eyes a stark contrast against his pallid skin. Betty’s heart ached for the broken boy before her, thrust into a world of sleepless nights, homeless days, and jailbird fathers. 

A weighted silence fell over the room as Jughead headed towards Cheryl, stopping a couple feet behind her and waiting for her to acknowledge his presence. Betty could practically see the tension rolling off his back in waves, mixed with the hopeless defeat of a child that had given up on the world. It had taken too much from him and he didn’t have the energy to fight back, the endless game of tug of war leaving him with deep, raw rope burns across his palms. He couldn’t hold onto anything anymore. Cheryl turned, face stoic as she regarded him with blank eyes.

“I’m sorry, Cheryl.” The words were quiet but they carried to Betty’s ears like she was an inch from his chapped lips. She inhaled a breath at the shake in his voice that he was trying so hard to hide, legs twitching as she desperately wanted to go to him. She remained glued to her seat as Cheryl stood, seconds ticking by like hours as the air went stale.

The sound of Cheryl’s palm connecting with Jughead’s cheek cracked throughout the cafeteria, a low murmuring chorus spreading in a wave among the growing crowd. The next few seconds were a flurry of movement; Cheryl’s pounding fits hitting Jughead’s chest again, and again, as the group scrambled from their seats, heading to break up the assault.

“That’s enough!” Archie yelled, wrapping his arms around the petite redhead’s waist and lifting her easily away from Jughead’s frozen form. Cheryl ran, eyes fixed on the floor as she made a stealthy exit, tears threatening to over-spill at any moment. 

“Come on, Juggie,” Betty whispered, gently wrapping a hand round her boyfriend’s arm and tugging to get him to move. He followed on numb feet, and Betty wondered if he even registered they were walking. 

She pushed his shoulders gingerly, sitting him down on the worn, plaid couch in the Blue and Gold office, before crossing the room to fetch the first aid kit, she herself perching on the low wooden table before him, clamping her knees round either side of his. Her soft hand cupped his chin, twisting his face back and forth to examine Cheryl’s damages. There was a small cut on his lower lip, a little bloody and swollen, but that seemed to be the only extent of the physical effects. Betty sighed, opening up the kit to tear open the foil on an antiseptic wipe.

Jughead’s red-rimmed eyes were distant, unfocused. He hadn’t uttered a word since his apology. Betty didn’t like being unable to read him. He’d spent so much of his life shutting himself down, hiding his feelings from those around him that it had slowly become second nature, enabling him to exude a cold, robotic exterior whenever he wanted to. It terrified her. She took a breath, opening her mouth to speak as she idly dabbed at his wound - he didn’t even flinch at the sting. His voice cut through the silence first.

“Do you know how many rooms there are in my grandparent’s house?” he asked, voice husky. Betty blinked, taken aback by the question. Her hand paused, hovering an inch in front of his lips as she regarded his expression, still not looking anywhere near her. She didn’t even know if he knew it was her before him. 

“I… No, I don’t,” she finally said, shaking herself out of her surprise and continuing the task at hand. Jughead exhaled a humourless breath out of his nose, nostrils flaring slightly in distaste. 

“Four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, a dining room, a living room, a study, a basement, and an attic conversion,” he recited as if he were reading a house listing. Betty didn’t say anything, eyes flicking between his mouth and his eyes as she waited for him to continue in his own time. Jughead’s eyes slid closed, brow furrowing slightly as if he were trying to repel a painful thought from his head. 

“She said that it would probably be best if I didn’t come and visit them right now. That she and Jellybean were already putting my grandparents out so much that another person around the house might seem like she was taking advantage.” His eyes screwed up, mouth pressing together as Betty pulled the wipe away, his teeth raking against the flesh and causing the cut to open up once more, bead of crimson welling quickly before rolling down his chin. Betty swept it away silently. Just as suddenly as the pain set on Jughead’s face it was gone, replaced again with those harrowing, unseeing eyes. “What she really meant was that she didn’t want me to come, that she couldn’t face what she’d left behind.”

Betty didn’t realise she was crying until a tear rolled off her chin, landing with a wet splash on the back of her hand. She swiped furiously at her cheeks, erasing their tracks. This was not the time for weak-willed crying. This was Jughead and he was lying before her in shattered pieces, sharp edges pricking anyone that tried to get too close. But Betty Cooper had a thick skin, wound in too many layers of duct tape and bubble wrap from piecing herself back together one too many times. She threw the soiled wipe onto the table beside her, reaching forward to grasp Jughead’s fists with trembling, clammy hands. She pried his tight fingers open, lacing her own through his to bar them from curling once more.

“Juggie,” she breathed, trying to talk around the tight pain his words, his expression, his demeanour, had caused in her chest. He still didn’t meet her soft, imploring eyes. “Jughead,” she began more firmly. He lifted his sad, tired eyes to hers finally. “Your value is not decided by the words of others. Or the actions,” she added, thinking of where his father was currently spending his day. 

“Do you know how many times you’ve pulled me back from the edge? I’ve been… dancing on the edge of this precipice for most of my life, and I was so close to losing my footing when you climbed through my window.” Betty allowed herself a small smile as she thought of their first kiss, the way his breath felt fanning over her flushed face as he exhaled in relief once his lips had touched hers, finally. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found me, Jug, I don’t know where I’d be,” she whispered, voice trembling, but she was determined to remain strong. Jughead shook his head almost imperceptibly.

“You didn’t need me, Betts, you would’ve made it alone-”

“But I didn’t have to. Don’t you see? I didn’t have to. Because you made sure that I had someone even when things seemed impossible. I know that I will never understand what it feels like to be where you are right now. But I don’t need to. I just know that you’re hurting and I’d do anything to take that pain away from you, I’d take it all this instant if I could.” Jughead’s lower lip had begun to tremble at her words. “And I know that you would do it for me, you have done it for me. You refuse to give up, or let me give up on myself, so now it’s my turn to make sure that you don’t give up either. Not on your dad, and not on yourself. That’s what people who love each other do.” She sucked in a breath with a wobbly inhale. 

Jughead blinked, the blue of his eyes intensifying as he took in her words, pupils dilating ever so slightly as they flicked back and forth across her face.

“What?” he mumbled, lips barely moving as if he dared not move a muscle. 

“I love you, Jughead. I love you, for you,” she repeated, not a single quiver in her voice. Tears gathered slowly along his waterline. His mom, his dad, Fred… he took it all in stride, but this? He could no longer hold the flood back as his chest heaved the first of its sobs, shoulders wracking violently as he cried. 

His whole body crumpled, folding forwards until his forehead hit her collarbone with a dull thud. She cupped his face tight against the warm crook of her neck, hand moving to the nape of his neck to rub small, soothing circles against the soft skin. She rocked him gently, hushing him with gentle, low shushes, letting him dampen the thin material of her shirt with his salt water troubles.

“It’s okay, Juggie, it’s going to be okay,” she whispered against the shell of his ear. Betty knew her words to be true; she had vowed to never lie to him for as long as he would allow her to be his. Now, all she had to do was prove it.


End file.
